There wasn’t much in my fridge at the moment, so I sighed and stood there beside my car, ordering food to be delivered. I’d definitely make it home before Jaxson got there because my apartment wasn’t far from city hall.
The second I was out of the elevator and in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and sprinted toward the bedroom. I showered in record speed and changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt, hoping that seeing me in casual clothes would signal to Jaxson that I wanted to do something different than the fighting we’d done in the office. I wanted to kick my own ass for treating him like a project to manage; however, I hoped he would appreciate that I didn’t let people see me this way, normally.
With minimal fuss, the food was delivered from El Sabroso Sur, and I was worried when Jaxson still wasn’t here not long later. I didn’t allow myself to ask if he wanted a ride after all, and I was glad I resisted the urge because there was a text message from the doorman that I had a visitor not even a minute later. I told him to let Jaxson come up, and the doorman escorted him in the elevator. Since I was in the penthouse, the elevator emptied directly into my living room, and that meant there was a key necessary to get to my floor.
Jaxson’s eyes were big when he stepped off the elevator. He froze when he spotted me, and I waved at the doorman, who quickly pressed the button to close the elevator doors. I tried to think about what Jaxson might be seeing. I barely noticed the décor anymore. Gray carpets, black sofas and chairs, iron and steel accents. I wasn’t a fan of wood unless it was dark, and the living room was completely devoid of it. I also didn’t do clutter.
“This is where you live?”
Shuffling from foot to foot, he stared around, and I studied him in his suit, which was much more interesting. “Yeah. It has a roof. Walls. Serves a purpose.”
“I didn’t realize working at city hall paid this well.” He slowly moved into the room and rested a hand on the back of an overstuffed sofa. His hair was darker than usual because it was damp, and I realized it must have started to pour buckets outside. I glanced at the windows, but it was already getting dark.
“It doesn’t. I took some risks in my early twenties. I was married to a much older woman for a while.” His mouth almost fell open and I smirked. “She died at the ripe old age of ninety-seven and left me a very nice amount of money. Liked to have a boy around to take her places. I took that money to investment real estate and turned it into serious money, and now I do the politics because I want to.” I shrugged.
“Do you… did you go to school at all?”
I tried not to let his question get to me because it wasn’t the first time I’d had someone shove their certificates in my face, as if you could buy a certain level of respectability with a school name. “Funny thing, you don’t need a degree to be mayor, or deputy mayor, in New Gothenburg.” I winked at him.
“You’re serious?”
I shrugged. “You can look it up. You’d sure as shit never catch me being someone’s ball washer for an internship. The lack of education hasn’t stopped me yet. School always seemed like a waste of time when I could be out in the world doing things. I’m a business leader.” I made quotes with my fingers, and he scowled. “I could be a senator or even the fucking president. Twelve presidents had no degree but got elected.” Irritation wiggled through me, but I pushed it away. I’d made myself a better than average life, and I’d promised myself a long time ago to not worry about the things I didn’t have, because they didn’t fucking matter. I could go to school if I wanted to, but what would be the point?
He tilted his head. “You’re getting defensive, but I’m actually more than impressed. I never heard that you were married.”
“It’s public record.” I checked my watch and twisted the band on my right wrist, not really seeing the time. “I figured someone would bring it up at some point on the campaign trail, but no one wanted to make me look sympathetic. A widower running for deputy mayor?” I shrugged and let my hand drop to my side. “No one wanted that.”
He nodded as if deep in thought and peeled his coat off, and I walked over and took it from him, dumping it over the chair by the door that I kept there specifically for tossing things on.
“What smells so good?” He darted his gaze around hopefully.
Grinning, I led him toward the dining room. He made all the right impressed noises as he passed through the second living room and professional-sized kitchen—the penthouse had its perks—and once we were at the hand-carved ebony dining table, I pulled a chair out for him. I didn’t stop myself from reaching out to brush the damp hair off his forehead as he sat, and then I pushed his chair in toward the table. His skin was cold but his color seemed to be returning fast. He smiled at what I’d done, which wasn’t fancy. I’d opened the bags and set out the containers with spoons in them, and also brought out some china and cloth napkins that didn’t get exercised much, since I was barely home.
“I’ve never had anyone do that,” he said quietly. “With the chair.”
“Do you… do you like it?”
“I think so.” He smiled up at me, and it was obvious he was searching for a middle ground he could live with, as far as me doing things for him went, so I nodded at him.
Dinner was mostly quiet. At one point I went to the kitchen to get us both mineral water, and when he wrinkled his nose at the bottles, I went back and got him a regular water. By the time we finished eating, all of the tension had eased out of his shoulders and his foot rested against mine under the table. I watched him lick some sauce off his thumb, and my dick took a vested interest in how well he cleaned the cheese sauce away from his skin with his pretty pink tongue.
“I don’t apologize to people without a damned good reason.”
He glanced up at me and, sadly, finished wiping his hands off on a napkin.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“What would be a good reason?”
I glanced down at the table and flicked a fork over on its side. “Maybe to keep you from telling me to fuck all the way off.”
“I… considered that, but I don’t want to.” He peeked sideways at me and there was some shyness there. “Where does that leave us? I’m only in this for career advancement.”
“I’m only in this to fuck you.” I shrugged.
“Then why am I eating dinner here?”
